


Proof

by Mab (Mab_Browne)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-31
Updated: 2011-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-22 01:29:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/232204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mab_Browne/pseuds/Mab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megan wanted to be a lion tamer when she was little – instead she has a jaguar, not tamed at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proof

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the Multi Kink Memes on Dreamwidth.
> 
> [The Sentinel entry](http://multikinkmemes.dreamwidth.org/3374.html)
> 
> Many thanks to Caro Dee for organising the TS entry and offering prompts, as well as offering other people in the fandom the chance to play.

Alex needs the sea nearby, and Megan wonders sometimes if it’s because the roar and push of the waves is a giant white noise generator. Or maybe it’s Alex’s own sentinel connection with the natural world, only expressed in the changeability of water and the transition of the beach instead of Jim’s forest and fishing getaways. Megan thinks sometimes that it would be nice to talk these things over with Blair, share experiences, but she knows the wispy smoke of a pipe dream when she sees it. Blair’s already helped as much as he could, as much as Megan dared to ask (and she dared quite a lot), and then with a regretful ‘I hope you know what you’re doing; I hope it works out for you’, they cut ties. It’s better that way for any number of reasons. Blair face down in a fountain is just one.

It’s late afternoon, shading into evening, and the sea and sky are paling as the sun creeps away. The wind off the sea is chill, and the sand is gritty under her bare feet, but Megan’s in no hurry to walk back to the small but comfortable house behind the dunes. She stares out at the water and up and down the deserted, sandy beach. She’d like to swim, but the currents here are dangerous. Alex knows when it’s safe, but Alex isn’t here – until she is.

“Contemplative tonight?”

Megan hates herself sometimes for the thrill, the satisfaction that she gets hearing Alex’s voice purr with that affectionate, intimate tone. She wanted to be a lion tamer when she was little – instead she has a jaguar, not tamed at all, but occasionally amenable to following Megan’s will. She turns towards her sentinel. _Her_ sentinel. “Yes, I suppose that I am.”

Alex takes a step forward but Megan steps away. “Not contemplative,” Alex says. “Still pissed off.”

“You have to admit – it didn’t go well. What with the dead innocent bystanders.”

“That wasn’t my fault,” Alex says.

“You didn’t pull the trigger, no.”

Alex shrugs. “It’s a risk, honey. We wanted Francesco taken down, he’s down.”

“I know.”

“You’re not a cop anymore, you can’t play by the cop rules. Not that they were ever so prettily black and white as you and Jim thought they were.”

“Can we not bring Ellison into the conversation?” Megan’s made her choice, and she’s not sorry for it. That doesn’t mean that she needs certain things shoved in her face, and her voice is sharp.

“My bad.” Alex sounds like she might even mean it. She takes another step towards Megan, and puts a hand, warm and proprietary, about her wrist. It doesn’t soothe, it just raises spectres – two women sprawled on the ground, the scent of blood, the noises that frightened, angry people can’t help but make.

“Leave me alone.”

“Why? So you can brood? Brooding never did anyone any good.”

“For all those fancy senses, you’re deaf as a post, sometimes, aren’t you? I said to leave me alone, Alex.”

Alex doesn’t listen; instead she crowds Megan and with a huff of exasperation, Megan twists and shoves Alex back, hard enough that she lands on her backside on the sand. Only for a moment, before she springs to her feet, her face suddenly calculating.

“If you want to hit me, then do it. Get it out of your system.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Megan retorts. But she can feel her skin twitch all over, as if something is struggling to crawl out.

Alex smiles. “Come on, sweetheart.” Her stance changes to a posture that’s unmistakable and challenging. She lunges, and Megan is forced to retreat or engage. She chooses retreat, but Alex won’t stop coming and she goes for a hit that nearly lands before Megan blocks her, feeling the jarring sensation tremble up and down her arm. It hurts, not that much, Alex isn’t going all out, but it’s enough to set something red and sharp free in Megan’s gut, and she makes her own move, a quick flurry of punches and kicks that sends Alex back with a triumphant, pleased, utterly _irritating_ grin upon her face.

“That’s it,” Alex croons, as Megan circles her. “Let it out.”

And isn’t that the problem with Alex – the things she’s given Megan the chance to let out? Megan feints, but Alex isn’t fooled. She’s a sentinel and a canny, dirty fighter. She moves, and hits, a kick to the ribs, carefully judged to give Megan the chance to roll with it, and that makes Megan even more furious. It’s all a game, all of it, and she pushes forward , blindly determined to show that she’s not playing. She lands her hits. They are both of them going to be bruised tomorrow, and Megan doesn’t care; instead she strikes hard and furiously, trying to prove something even though she doesn’t know what it is.

Whatever it is, she’s not proving that she’s the better fighter today. She’s too undisciplined, burning too hot with feeling to read what she needs to, and her breath whistles out of her as Alex gets inside her guard and bears her down to the sand. They lie tangled together, the roar of heaving breath overruling the ocean’s sound. Then Alex laughs.

“Quite the little Aussie battler, aren’t you?” She smiles at whatever she can see in Megan’s face. “What? I know how to use the web.”

“You need to careful with that reference. I might think you were implying that you’re hard work.”

“Oh, honey. I’ve always admitted to being high maintenance.” Alex’s eyes glow with a familiar light. “Terribly demanding.”

Megan’s sore, but it doesn’t matter. The pains, the knocks and the bruises, are just a stimulus now, sensations that thrum in her blood and over her skin. When Alex lowers her head and kisses her, they’re taking each other, both opening, both devouring. Alex moans and her hungry mouth shifts to Megan’s neck, her collarbone, the top of her breasts. She moves her hands, so that Megan can reach for her and fill her own hands with sleek skin and muscle.

Alex lifts her head. “Satisfied now?”

“Hardly.”

Alex’s thigh moves a little more firmly between Megan’s legs. “Oh, I know that you’ll need more. Much, much more.” Megan lifts and hitches her hips against that strong, smooth thigh. “But that’s not what I meant. Proved myself, have I?”

“Proved what? That you can take me in a fight?”

Alex looks oddly defensive. Her hand gently caresses Megan’s breast, but her attention isn’t with the touch. “You and I – we’re here, _together_. You’re not laid out on the sand with a concussion despite the fact that you have been one pissy bitch all day long. You keep trusting me – to be...” Alex lifts an eyebrow, “...proportionate. And I am.” She strokes a strand of hair back from Megan’s face, and then lowers her head to nuzzle along the hairline, inhaling deeply. “And you’re right.”

Something rises in Megan’s chest, something fierce and tender together. “You keep bloody proving me right. You keep doing it.” She knits her hand in the tousled golden hair. Alex’s eyes look into Megan’s, but she’s not sure what the sentinel sees, before Alex locks off the vulnerability and lets sex have free rein.

“You might even be worth it,” Alex says, and kisses her hard, as if to convince them both.


End file.
